


A Naked Malfoy (Memory Not Included)

by themalfoymanner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Memory Loss, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex in the Slytherin dorm, but Harry isn't too concerned about it, they're 16 here so not underage by UK standards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themalfoymanner/pseuds/themalfoymanner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A confused Harry wakes up in the Slytherin dorm next to a very naked Draco, with no memory of how any of this came to be</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Naked Malfoy (Memory Not Included)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mangoapplepie (jg291)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jg291/gifts).



> Written for this tumblr prompt: "Just imagine our Harry waking up in an alternate universe his sixth year, in his own bed with the green silk sheets with silver trim charmed to keep warm even though the dungeons get so cold in the winter, and a naked Draco Malfoy curled up against him."

Warmth. That’s the first thing Harry notices as he gradually awakens. He’s so _warm_. He feels it down to his bones, this ineffable heat coursing through his body. He burrows in his blankets and tightens his hold on the person next to him, twisting their bodies even closer together.

Wait. What the _fuck_? 

Harry tries to claw off the blankets in his haste to sit up, but winds up tangling his leg in the sheet and falling off the side of the bed, dragging the blankets with him. He blinks rapidly as he takes in the room. It’s- it’s all _wrong._ Forest green sheets, silver accents, weird, creepy portraits on the walls, and everything is too dark. It’s just not _right_ , not at all. Where the fuck is he? 

He tries to stand, trips over the sheet still twisted around his calf, fights it for a moment, and finally frees himself. He hoists himself to his feet, and notices two rather alarming things. One, he is naked. And two, there is a boy sleeping in the bed he just vacated who also appears to be naked. The boy’s face is buried in the pillow, so all Harry can see is white blonde hair and his slim back, his skin pale and smooth and fucking flawless. God.

It can’t- it can’t be _Malfoy,_ right? No, surely Harry hasn’t woken up naked in the Slytherin dormitory with an equally naked Malfoy and no memory of getting here. That’s just absurd. Outrageous. No one would believe it.

Well. Yeah, Ron might have said that thing about Harry and Malfoy finally getting over themselves by shagging each other’s brains out, but he was _joking._  He couldn’t have actually expected Harry to- _that-_ with Malfoy?

And sure, Hermione liked to give Harry knowing looks when he watched Malfoy on the Map, but what was Harry supposed to do? Let Malfoy get away with his evil scheme? Malfoy is up to something, Harry _knows_ it, and he’s just trying to catch him! He’s concerned for the welfare of the school! He’s trying to do the right thing! And the right thing is to catch Malfoy red handed and prove what a sneaky little ferret he is. And Malfoy will be so furious that Harry finally bested him that he’ll probably try to attack Harry, but oh, Harry won’t let him, he’ll grab Malfoy and shove him against the wall and then press against him and…

Well. No need to examine _that_ thought too deeply. Harry clearly has unresolved aggressive impulses towards the git. That’s all.

Maybe he’s here as part of some sort of elaborate plot to finally discover what Malfoy’s up to! Yeah, that’s it! It’s either that or Malfoy tricked him into coming here and then wiped his memories. The bastard.  

Harry is considering whether to flee the dorm or wake Malfoy and demand an answer when Malfoy turns over to face him. Sleepy grey eyes blink up at him, and shockingly, Malfoy breaks into a wide grin. “Are you planning on just standing there staring at me or are you going to fuck me again, Potter?” When Harry gapes at him in shock, Malfoy sits up and stretches, the green silk sheet falling down to show the hard planes of his chest and the sharp indentations of his hipbones. “Come on, Scarhead. I’ve finally found a good use for you. Really, it’s your only skill. You ought to take advantage of it.” Harry wants to argue with this, but Malfoy chooses this moment to turn onto his stomach and push himself up onto his hands and knees, arching his spine in a way that should be illegal. “Well? What’s it going to be?” 

Harry stares at him in astonishment for a long moment before his body takes over and he finds himself scrambling back onto the bed, running his hands down Malfoy’s back as he tells himself that he’s only doing this to gain Malfoy’s trust and uncover his secrets. Yes. It’s the only thing he can do, really. What other choice does he have? 

His breathing ragged, Harry traces Malfoy’s spine, unable to believe that Malfoy’s lithe body is spread out before him like this. He feels so- so _hungry_ , it’s coiling in the pit of his stomach, this alien instinct to just devour and take and _own_. Its potency frightens him, and he wrestles down his panic. He has no idea what he’s doing. Malfoy clearly expects- _something_ \- but what does Harry know about this? He doesn’t remember last night, and before this, the most he’s ever done is exchange awkward, wet kisses with Cho.

Malfoy squirms impatiently and snaps, “Today, Potter.” 

Harry exhales unevenly, his hands tentatively sliding down to his tailbone. God, Malfoy’s muscles keep contracting beneath his touch, and he’s so pale Harry can discern the feathery blue veins underneath his skin. He looks so vulnerable, like a fragile, ethereal angel who- “For fuck’s sake, Potter, just shove your cock in me! Honestly.” Well, maybe not _that_ angelic.

Harry drags a finger along the crack of Malfoy’s arse, pleased when he moans and pushes back against him. “More,” he gasps, his voice so husky that all the blood promptly rushes to Harry’s cock. _He_ did that. He made Malfoy sound that- that _destroyed._ Just by touching him.

“Should, should I…?” Harry doesn’t know how to put this wild knot of desire into words, feeling almost paralyzed by lust. 

Malfoy looks over his shoulder at Harry, frowning. “I don’t need a lot of preparation, it’s okay.” Baffled, Harry just stares at him, trying to figure out what he means. Preparation for _what_? Malfoy rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me or anything. It was just, you know, a lot. I’m fine. Really. Just do it.” 

Oh god. He’s expecting Harry to do something, something so Harry can- can _fuck_ him, oh my god, he’s going to fuck _Draco bloody Malfoy_!

Before Harry’s panic can spiral, Malfoy huffs and sits back on his heels. “I suppose you expect me to do all the work. Lazy arse. Fine.” And with that, he pushes Harry flat on his back, crawling over him to straddle his waist. _Oh_. Malfoy’s grinning down at him, his wild blonde hair fluttering around his face like a halo, and he looks so- so beautiful, really, there’s no other word for it. Malfoy is _beautiful_. When did that happen? 

And he’s- fuck! He’s casting the lubrication spell that Harry uses for wanking, slickening his fingers and dragging them behind him. They slip behind his balls, trail down his perineum, and oh, they’re rubbing little circles around his hole. Harry watches with wide eyes as Malfoy pushes two fingers inside himself, his back arching as he groans. Fuck. Fuck! He’s moving his fingers faster now, plunging them deep inside, and Harry can hear it, the squelching sound they make as the push past his rim, and suddenly, the only thing he wants is to be inside Malfoy like that. _He_ wants to be the one to put that rapturous look on Malfoy’s face. Harry bats Malfoy’s fingers away and replaces them with his own, biting his lip in concentration as he traces the furled rim lightly. Malfoy’s mouth hangs open, his eyes glazed with lust, and Harry watches as his lips form a perfect O as Harry pushes two fingers inside him. 

Oh! Being inside Malfoy is _unbelievable_. His body is hot, so, so _hot_ , and wrapped around Harry like a vise. As Harry wriggles his fingers experimentally, he brushes against something that makes Malfoy squeal and slam his hips down on Harry’s hand, forcing his fingers deeper. “Again!” he demands, his face desperate, and Harry drives his fingers in at the same angle, hitting that spot again. “Oh, oh, oh fuck!” Malfoy cries, riding his fingers faster now. “Yes, oh fuck, yes!” They’re both groaning, Harry unable to look away from the sight of his fingers disappearing into Malfoy’s body. “Fuck, Potter, yes, right there, right there, harder,” Malfoy babbles, and Harry pants as he speeds up his fingers even more. He’s so focused on the sensation of Malfoy’s inner muscles clasping him that he’s startled when Malfoy lunges forward and pushes him flat against the mattress. “No more,” he gasps. “I want to come with your cock in me.”

Harry nods desperately, and cries out when Malfoy grabs his cock, slicks it with lube, and then positions it at his entrance. Malfoy stares into his eyes as he slowly impales himself on Harry’s cock, burying inch after inch inside his perfect arse. Harry claws at the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries not to come. But god, it’s so intense, so fucking _good_ , that he doesn't know how he’s supposed to last. It’s too much- too much _everything._ And watching Malfoy isn’t helping, because his skin is glowing and his back is arched and his neck is corded and his cock is swollen and leaking on his stomach and it makes Harry feel _frenzied_ with need. No. Don’t look at Malfoy. Keeping his eyes closed, he tries to recite Quidditch scores (Quidditch, broomsticks, Malfoy riding a broomstick in his Quidditch leathers, Malfoy riding him- _no!_ ), then thinks about McGonagall wearing a tartan thong, and it’s so horrifying that yes, he can probably open his eyes now.

Peeking beneath his lashes, he groans when he sees Malfoy rise up on his cock then crash his hips back down. Malfoy’s eyes flutter shut when Harry’s buried to the hilt, and he leans down to brace his hands on Harry’s chest. Harry digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up instinctively, and is rewarded with a hoarse cry from Malfoy. “Potter! Do- do it again.” Harry grabs hold of Malfoy’s hips and _slams_ back up, sheathing himself in his molten heat. Malfoy mewls and drives his hips down to match Harry’s thrusts, and soon, they’ve built up a punishing rhythm. As Malfoy sinks down on his cock, Harry pistons upwards, greeting him and lifting him back up. They’re going faster and faster, and Malfoy’s writhing on top of him, Harry can’t last like this, he needs Malfoy to come too, and Malfoy’s long, dripping cock is bobbing between them, so Harry reaches out and starts pumping it, flicking his thumb over the engorged head, and this makes Malfoy _wail_ , he sounds _feral_ , and it heats Harry’s blood even more, his whole body is trembling and he can’t stop thrusting up into Malfoy, needing more more more  _more_ , and then Malfoy’s howling and clenching around his cock so tightly that Harry loses control and comes with a muffled shout, bucking up into Malfoy as he fills his arse with come. 

Malfoy collapses on top of him, sweaty and breathless, and Harry wraps his arms around his waist. He can’t think of anything to say, but right now, it doesn’t matter.

He can’t even bring himself to care about his memory loss, or his inexplicable connection with Malfoy. Right now, Malfoy’s all that’s real, and Harry lets himself exult in this moment, focusing only on the present and letting all his uncertainties fade away.

 


End file.
